


Counting Stars

by advictorem



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1476868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/advictorem/pseuds/advictorem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy wasn’t the only one who had a “what-if.” Annabeth thinks back to her time with Thalia and realizes that even she, as a daughter of Athena, could make a poor decision. Thalia/Annabeth, Thaliabeth drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place sometime just before or after the Battle of the Labyrinth.
> 
> I’ve been thinking of this pairing for a while and I realized that I have never written anything for it so here it goes.

She remembered the last time they kissed, on Olympus, during the celebration that followed the securing of the Ophiotaurus. Percy had been looking for her, probably so she could do something stupid like dance with him. He didn’t find her. He didn’t find them. They were out of sight and out of mind—nestled in a small wedge in Apollo’s temple, writhing hotly against one another, applying pressure in all the right spots.

Their lips pressed together; they never clashed. Pink smoothly and deliberately slid against red. Teeth indented lips. Hands slipped and cupped and held—subtly enough to where neither felt pressured, but also firmly enough that it sent tingles up their spines. There was the smearing of lip balm—the presence of that familiar sweet citrus flavor.

Annabeth would miss kissing her childhood crush, her best friend, the only person she felt ever truly cared about her. The only person who she knew had never thought about betraying her or leaving her behind. The person who would always, always come back to her.

She remembered when they were on the run together, and she would peer at her face, watching the older girl as she slept, tracing the sharp features. She always snuggled up with her, not Luke. They shared the same sleeping bag and, even though the punk girl would put on a tough act and complain, Annabeth always caught the smile on her freckled face that said she liked the fact that they laid together.

Her stepmother had caught them once, on the living room couch. They had not known that her stepmother would be back so soon. Fingers had been beneath Annabeth’s shirt, pinching at her hardened nipples; and the dark-haired demigoddess had only been in a sports bra and underwear, pressing her lips to Annabeth’s pulsing, hot neck.

Experimenting, her stepmother had called it. She said Annabeth was going through a phase. Right. Hearts jumping, pulses pounding, eyes fluttering, hands clinging—that wasn’t a phase.

They had to promise her that they would never do it again, and that they understood how wrong and disgusting it all was.

It wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t ever disgusting. It was loving and warm and nice and Annabeth didn’t want to stop. So they found better places to hide—Cabin One was a favorite. They would kiss and caress in the cozy, slightly hidden alcove for long hours, skipping meaningless lessons like archery, and even though Chiron sometimes checked in on them suspiciously, they never got caught by anyone again.

When they attended boarding school together, Thalia would do little things like hold her hand and walk her to class, even when Thalia’s classroom was at the other end of the campus. None of the other girls said anything to them, but that might have had something to do with Thalia’s reputation of knocking people on their asses.

The first time they kissed, Annabeth had been explaining the role of catalysts in biological processes. It was only to be expected that she would be cut off by a pair of lips—electric blue eyes had been hungrily boring into her, drifting down to observe her plump, pink mouth. Plus, Annabeth was pretty much the only person in the eighth grade that found homeostasis interesting.

It had been clumsy, she would admit. It was a first for either of them. They were inexperienced but that didn’t stop them from continuing. They tried to stop—Annabeth tried to do the respectful thing and back off—but she kept getting reeled right back in, unfurling in the security of those tan and lean-muscled arms.

But they got better. They grew more experienced. They learned. They grew.

Annabeth grew into the prodigal daughter of Athena, who was always pestered by her younger siblings for wise advice. She planned strategy and attacks on Luke and his army. She organized events and meetings for the camp. She was top-ranked in her high school, and she had an impressively high GPA.

Annabeth had never stopped growing. Thalia had.

She still liked Thalia. It was stupid, she was aware of that. Thalia had joined the Hunters of Artemis, and Annabeth was stuck at Camp Half-Blood, preparing for what might be the next Titan War. She didn’t want to do this, not without Thalia. She didn’t want to face Luke. She didn’t want to fight alongside Percy, who was sweet and loyal and simply there.

Annabeth was angry with herself. She knew that it would never work out but the lovesick side of her still wondered if Thalia would be a good girlfriend, if they would take walks together, if Thalia would take her to see architectural masterpieces and then woo her further by getting her ice cream and letting her blow all of her money at quaint little bookshops.

Other times she would think about how even though Thalia loved to argue and push her buttons constantly, pick at her when she jumped at the sight of a spider, and annoyingly pull on her ponytail to get her attention, they could never stay mad at each other. Annabeth tried to stay angry at times (Thalia could be frustratingly arrogant just to get a rise out of her) but she never could.

And Thalia couldn’t stay upset with her either. Whenever they would argue about something, Thalia would either sulk or smugly smirk for the rest of the day, but she would always be the first of the two to apologize.

Sometimes, she felt like a kindergartner that had a crush on an older kid. That was one of the problems. Thalia could unintentionally make Annabeth feel like a silly, foolish child. She wasn’t supposed to feel that way. Annabeth wasn’t supposed to feel so stupid over one person.

But she couldn’t tell Thalia how she felt because they literally had almost nothing in common. That was important to relationships, right? And it was…well, it was dangerous with Thalia. She was impulsive but she was also so confident, and that was rarely a good combination. Annabeth loved Thalia—as a friend, of course, and potentially as something more—but the time for them had already passed, hadn’t it?

Besides, every one of the Aphrodite kids was pushing her to get with Percy, the boy who was destined to be her mortal enemy because of their parentage. Percy was somewhat like Thalia but he wasn’t as confident. He was a bit obtuse but he was kind and he cared a lot about his friends.

And Thalia could be arrogant and reckless and cute and sweet, sometimes all at once.

After they had last kissed, Thalia had daringly asked her to join the Hunters with her, to leave behind everyone else. She’d have a new family again with Thalia, the girl who sometimes got on her last nerve but also caused her heart to soar from her chest.

It was times like these that Annabeth regretted ever telling her no.

Thalia had always returned for her.

Would she ever do so again?

Was it too late now?


End file.
